


sink with me

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 00:59:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13493499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: Her hotel room has only been hers for three days.Or, how Taeyeon commits to her second novel, a deadline, and the cactus from the Pretty Flower Shop Owner.





	sink with me

-

 

 

 

 

Taeyeon expects Sooyoung to call.

It's been a week since the headlines declared LITERARY PRODIGY KIM TAEYEON TO MAKE HER SOPHOMORIC RETURN TO THE HORROR SCENE and honestly, Taeyeon thinks she might lose it. Especially after the fourth or fifth voicemail.

" _What_ ," she barks finally, and Sooyoung scoffs in reply. Taeyeon imagines the dark look her publisher is probably wearing. Mostly, it's out of spite. She arches her shoulders back. Then twists her neck. It cracks. "Sorry," Taeyeon says. Doesn't mean. "I'm staring at a computer screen."

"Are there words?"

"There's a cursor. It's blinking pretty fast."

Sooyoung doesn't laugh. There's a curse. A door slams. Taeyeon listens to a pair of heels hit floor. Sooyoung is breathless. She's either running. Or beating someone. It's been like this since they were in high school.

" _Yah_ ," her publisher snaps. "You're going to need it together. I can't send your book to print. If there's no book. I also can't _murder_ you with no book. Because Tiffany won't let me get away with it, solely as your publicist. I need to at least give her a week."

Taeyeon rolls her eyes. "You have the first couple of chapters -"

"And then what? The guy sits in the house and stares at the walls into nothingness. That's the great mystery? Do the walls at least start to bleed? Is he going crazy. Is it finally the damn devil? This is supposed to be your _grand_ return, you know."

It's the worst. When someone says that - your _grand_ return, like she cured cancer instead of getting lucky with a small, relatively mediocre novel about ghosts and a haunted police station. Taeyeon has never dealt well with compliments, let alone being thrusted into a cycle of people constantly picking apart her words, looking for deeper, darker meanings while singing her praise, only to lord her it over her head. The literary world is mostly a bunch of circles and it's dizzying, something that she is constantly trying to stay in front of. But, she thinks, she's failing miserably. The second novel? Was only started to see if she could write one.

"Can we not say that?" Taeyeon leans back in her seat. Rubs her eyes. "Please?"

"What? That Tiffany is already hyping a partially finished novel because she's nuts, over-eager, and yet still ridiculously successful at her job - actually, that's where the real mystery-horror _whatever_ should be. What sacrifices has she made and to what demon, so that I can get in whatever she's doing."

Taeyeon rolls her eyes. Ignores Sooyoung's tirade into why her novel isn't finished. The truth? It's hard. It's hard to create and follow through on a story where she can't think of an inevitable end. It eats away at her too; she's tied by a contract, her first three novels promised to Sooyoung's company out of ambition and excitement. Which, Taeyeon thinks, is probably why they agreed to put her up in a small, boutique hotel, in the middle of the city, under the guise of her trying to finish.

The coffee shop is part of the hotel. A small corner of the lobby. It tries to emulate a Parisian cafe of the sorts with pastries and tiny tables, neither of which are conducive to writing.

"You call me the minute you get something done."

"What?"

Sooyoung growls. "You call me the minute you get something done," she repeats. Her voice sharpens. "Or I'll kill you," she says. "And then nail your body to the wall with all Tiffany's press releases."

"That's a lot," Taeyeon replies.

Sooyoung curses. And hangs up quickly.

This is usually how it goes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her hotel room has only been hers for three days.

Three days, two nights, and it's literally the most stifling place she's lived in and, Taeyeon thinks, she's lived in _some_ places. The problem with choosing writing as a profession is that no one ever warns you about the severity of writer's block, what it does to you, and how, in turn, your mind decides to pay you back. With a lot of dust and empty words.

From the coffee shop to her room, she's deleted and rewritten about fifteen thousand words, recycled every single dialogue tagged, and has probably murdered the main character six different ways.

"I have to get out," she tells herself, out loud. Slams her laptop shut. Throws it onto her bed and glares. "You know," she says to her computer. "I miss the days where I could watch puppy videos and not feel guilty about it."

She whirls around and sits on the edge of her bed. Turns on the television. She tries to watch the news first. Then turns it off. Tries to watch a Disney movie. Turns it off. It's not the Nightmare Before Christmas anyway. Finally, it just makes sense to go out.

If she still smoked, she'd find a corner outside and stare at the walls. Instead, she drags her jacket on, marches to the elevators, and escapes into a cluster of a crowd - some students, tourists, and people going in and out of the hotel. She finds the street, trying to avoid contact. She doesn't hate people; people make her uncomfortable. In fact, most of the money from her first novel is being saved away so that she can buy a house in the country and retire from this kind of noise. Taeyeon has never been good at people.

It doesn't mean that she doesn't like to watch them though.

She walks a couple of blocks. Makes up stories in her head about the people she passes. A couple holding hands in front of her gets an epic love story of a lifetime, only to break up in tragedy because there's a cab driver not paying attention. An old lady on her telephone wants to talk to an unresponsive son on the opposite line, but her son never answers. Then it's too late.

When Taeyeon stops, she realizes she is in front of a flower shop.

Flowers have never been her thing. But she thinks of Sooyoung, then of Tiffany, and feels guilty because they have supported her for so long and this, this second time has brought so many headaches. She takes two steps forward, groping for her wallet.

"Can I help you?"

Taeyeon blinks. A young girl is standing by the door with a hose.

"Just looking," she mumbles and finds her wallet. She grips it tightly. "I have to send flowers to friends - do you deliver?"

The girl nods. "Unnie's inside - she's the owner." The girl is barely looking at Taeyeon and knees to slide the hose into a tree pot. "She'll help you," the girl adds, pointing to the door.

Taeyeon takes a step forward. The smell of flowers doesn't hit immediately, but it's there, all of the sudden, overwhelming as she opens the door and nearly stumbles into taking a step forward. It makes her head spin. There may be roses. There's a bit of lavender. She spots a small pot of herbs by the door, a pretty and elaborate sign that says grow your garden! and makes her smile without thought. Which, Taeyeon thinks, she kind of hates herself for.

But she looks around for the owner, definitely overwhelmed. There are colors and buds and shapes and so much life, too much life, the kind that her head doesn't really understand how to handle. Her mouth twitches though and she spots a cluster of cacti, kneeling by the tray and studying some of them. She thinks of Sooyoung.

"Can I help you?"

"Um, sure -" When she turns her head, she immediately is greeted by a woman. It takes a second and _unnie_ seems to process a lot longer as she scoops out the woman's legs, then raises her gaze to her face. She's beautiful. Like in a punch to the gut kind of way. Taeyeon feels her throat dry and hates herself for it. "I, uh... help?"

The woman laughs.

It happens so quickly: she steps forward, brushing her hands against her legs as she crouches by Taeyeon and the cacti. Her elbows rest against her knees. Her hair sweeps over her shoulders and Taeyeon's eyes are drawn to the long plane of her throat, to soft, warm skin, and then the woman's mouth as it shifts and dimples into a smile.

"They don't bite," the woman says. She offers her hand and it hovers, mid-air. "Jessica," she introduces herself.

"I - hi." Her palms feel sweaty and Taeyeon wipes her hands over her jeans. She takes the woman's hand, shaking it awkwardly. "I'm assuming you're the owner? At least, that's what the girl told me outside."

Jessica laughs. "Yeri," she murmurs. "She's a dongsaeng. One of my sister's favorites. She needed a job... she just doesn't trust everyone upon first meeting them. Like my sister."

True to form, Taeyeon glances at the door. Meets Yeri's gaze from outside. The younger girl glares and looks away, pretending to busy herself with the hose and most of the outdoor plants. Taeyeon swallows and looks back at the cacti, sweeping her hand over them. She's mindful of the needles, bitting her lip.

"Are these easy to take care of?" She asks. She tries to ignore the fact that she wants to look at Jessica again. Her palms still feel a little sweaty. Her fingers twitch. "I want to give these two a friend. She needs something low maintenance. I'm also going for the pun..." Taeyeon winces, but Jessica laughs. "She'll probably try to kill me anyway," she adds.

Jessica nods. She carefully picks up a small cactus. It's a deep green with a bright, intense array of needles that makes her nervous and amused. Sooyoung, she thinks, it's going to hate this.

"They're relatively low-key," Jessica murmurs. The tiny cactus sits in the center of her palm. "But are super sensitive to the usual suspects - overwatering, light, etc. If your friend is someone who is overeager, I don't recommend the cactus."

"She's not," Taeyeon replies dryly. "I actually think she might throw it at my head."

Jessica points to cut flowers. "They might be safer."

"It depends on the type of vase."

They both laugh. It's the first genuine conversation Taeyeon feels like she's had in ages. Her heart is racing. It's even launched itself into her throat. It's hard though; if anything, it's because Jessica is just so pretty. She smiles and it feels like the easies thing in the world to just smile back, something Taeyeon is completely and utterly unfamiliar with. At least, she thinks, these days.

But Taeyeon decides on a bouquet of these large, tall purple flowers. Too bright to be anything else, she thinks. She fingers a few petals, watching as Jessica selects a dozen and takes them behind a counter.

"They mean patience," she tells Taeyeon. Taeyeon snorts and Jessica shrugs. "Aster flowers usually pair well with mums, but I had a customer already buy what I had today."

"I'm going to pretend to understand what that means."

A pretty blush hits Jessica's face. "Sorry," she says. "Everyone has their forte, you know?"

Taeyeon bites her lip. "I know."

She doesn't press. Prefers to watch Jessica as she fusses around the counter, pushing a notepad towards Taeyeon for the delivery address. It's probably best to just get Sooyoung's flowers delivered. Because she might die in person. Flowers, but no novel.

"So what do you do?"

Taeyeon blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"You." Jessica watches her pause. Taeyeon can't remember Sooyoung's office number. "What do you do?" Jessica asks, amused. 

"Write."

Taeyeon rubs the back of neck. She's hot, all of the sudden. Shifts from foot to foot. She tries to pick something to stare at: glances at Jessica, looks away, her face is hot and looking at the roses are not enough, and finally, she finds herself back to the cacti on the floor, clustered around a couple of trays.

"Not very well," she says dryly. "Hence the apology flowers."

"I see."

Taeyeon walks forward, picking up a cactus. She's mindful of using her fingers to hold the bottom of the plastic pot. She turns to Jessica, holding up the cactus.

"How much for this one?"

Jessica smiles brightly. It's automatic: the slight curve of her mouth, the way she studies the cactus in Taeyeon's hand. She stops playing with the aster bunch. She leans into the counter, propping her chin up with one hand.

"You can have it," she says.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." Jessica motions to the bouquet. "I'll take care of these, you take care of that. Give it a good home. Maybe it'll help with the poor writing. Or whatever you may think is _poor_ writing."

Taeyeon feels her heart launch itself into her throat again, then drop into the pit of her stomach. There are knots and butterflies and what feels like needles, dragging from her belly and along her spine. She feels dizzy and it's completely ridiculous how one, sudden smile makes the world feel like it's spinning or about to end. She is not that person, the one that sees someone and feels like the world could begin and end and maybe she might be okay with it ending. It's too much; this is why Jessica is beautiful.

"Thank you," she murmurs. Draws back. Because she doesn't know what else to do.

The tiny cactus feels like the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT announces itself at the top of the word document.

The news is on the television by her writing desk. It's muted and Taeyeon sets up her phone against the desk lamp to play A Nightmare Before Christmas while she pretends to work. It might be day four or five. It doesn’t matter. She grins when Jack appears on screen and starts to sing along, word for word with him.

"There’s children throwing snowballs -" Taeyeon laughs, catching up, "- instead of throwing heads, they’re busy building toys and absolutely no one’s dead."

Behind her, the cactus is by her bed. It sits under a separate light and she's taken to drawing a large heart on the plastic pot. Because secretly, she's twelve and kind of, sort of, well, maybe _totally_ has a huge crush on the flower shop owner. Jessica, she thinks. Remembers. A lack of sleep is starting to crawl into her eyes.

Jack Skellington's voice fades into background music again. Taeyeon's hands fly across her keyboard. She's muttering to herself; her glasses start to slide down her nose. There's an ache in her neck again.

"She was beautiful," she finds herself reading. Out loud, even. "In a totally disarming kind of way. The kind where you just don't understand how someone that beautiful exists. You hate yourself for it. In fact, it makes you feel a little ugly and dark inside. Mostly, it's because you might just believe in love at first sight after all -"

Taeyeon stops abruptly. Stares at the words. 

Next to her, Jack Skellington is silenced and a text from Sooyoung pops up at the top.

_fuck you, flowers aren't a book_ , it says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The flower shop isn't open in the morning. 

The windows are dark. Although, she swears she sees a light on in the back. There are cacti in the window display though. Some small, some large. Their pots are all an array of colors and sizes too.

Her fingers touch the glass. She’s fascinated.

Taeyeon isn't quite sure how she ended back up here. She blames the cactus. She thinks she fell asleep sometime after three am, staring at the cactus instead of the news, wanting to touch the needles like a child, but remembering Jessica and the stupid, damn smile of hers. It's also because the coffee shop won't do it. The screaming child behind her was enough to say _you need to get out!_ as she bought a coffee and muffin for herself, Jessica, and the kid that worked at the flower shop too. Mostly, it's good to make friends with the teenagers. A healthy source of honesty or whatever.

But it ends up not being open when she arrives, much to her disappointment. She doesn't even hide from that. So she stands there awkwardly, gripping the tray of coffees, pastries, and her laptop bag like a lost puppy. Change in environment is good, she tries to pep talk herself. Instead, she ends up thinking of Jessica again. Her eyes wander to the cacti in the window.

"Hi."

Taeyeon jumps. Stumbles forward. She nearly drops the muffins and her laptop, holding onto the coffee with a vice-like grip. Jessica is standing behind her, confused. 

"Sorry," she says too. But doesn't look apologetic. Her hair is braided over her shoulder. Jessica checks her watch. She steps around Taeyeon, unlocking the front door. "We're not open for another hour. Was there problems with your delivery?"

"No." Taeyeon mumbles. “There wasn’t.”

"Sorry?"

Taeyeon blushes. Bites her lip. She toes the ground in front of her, gathering her sanity. "It was perfect," she says. Holds up the tray of coffee. "I just wanted to thank you and -" Taeyeon panics, searching for the teenager's name.

"Yeri," Jessica supplies. She's amused. Leans against the frame of the door. 

"Yeri," Taeyeon repeats. There are no flowers outside yet. That smell is there though, creeping out from the door. It feels a lot warmer today and it's silly, but she wants to reach out and tug Jessica's braid. "For helping me," she finishes. She's a little breathless. "I'm all over the place and I just... thank you for everything?"

Jessica studies her.

It makes Taeyeon panic. There's no immediate response and she's left to watching Jessica, something she doesn't mind doing, but doing it so openly nearly pushes her into a full-fledge panic attack. Her palms are sweaty again and there's no sense in sitting down to write this damn book, she thinks. Which, if she's _really_ honest, is eight chapters of nothing, complete and utter nothingness, and sure, okay, there's a ghost and a demon and a creepy old lady, but there's a joke there instead and not the next, great horror novel.

"So you're a writer."

"What?" Taeyeon blinks. "I'm sorry."

Jessica shakes her head. "I thought you looked familiar," she says. Her head tilts too. "I've seen you on my sister's bookshelf. She's big into scary things - movies, shows, haunted houses. That stuff."

"Oh." Taeyeon feels the disappointment creep in. For once, she was proud, maybe surprised that she was recognized by someone interesting. Or, well, it's a little more than that. She doesn't know if she wants to step on that road though. "Yeah," she manages. "That's me. I've been working on a deadline for the last year... it's kind of crunch time."

"You're at the hotel?"

She nods. "I can't get things done at home."

That's the truth. The problem? A large, empty home is equally as bed as a small, empty hotel room. There is nowhere to hide on a deadline, she thinks. Not anymore.

"Do you need a quiet place?"

Jessica leans away from the door. She straightens and then steps back, motioning for Taeyeon to follow her inside the shop. She's seemed to have decided on something. Taeyeon follows her wordlessly, putting the coffee and pastries on top of the desk that is at the front of the door. Jessica points to a stool and a small, clear corner.

"It's not much," she says. "You can work there. Yeri's in school all day and I'm preparing arrangements for weekend orders. I'll probably make you ring in an order or two." She laughs, teasing Taeyeon. "No, but I could use the company... sometimes it gets really quiet in here. I turn music on, but plants still can't talk back to me or protect me from the creepy dark corners either. Not that I can't protect myself -" She laughs a little. "Anyways."

It takes her a moment to realize that Jessica is rambling, nervously swinging herself onto her heels as she looks around the store and not at Taeyeon. She fusses over a few plants, then grabs a coffee, and Taeyeon quietly moves to sit on the stool, unable to look away from Jessica. 

"Thank you," she says, but it's softly, the words tasting like air and nothing else. Even as Jessica brushes by to turn on the music for the shop. But she means it and that's weird, the unsettling feeling of meaning something without anything profound or clear-cut attached to what's happen. Because nothing's happened.

Except Taeyeon doesn't open her laptop.

It's the most difficult thing in the world, dramatic or not, but suddenly - just to pinpoint what's happening. There are feelings, small, quiet ones that seem to bubble over from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat and the roof of her mouth. Her heart is pounding and she watches Jessica move to the window to start watering some of her plants, watches as she stops just under the sunlight that grows against the window glass. The sun seems to settle on her. It's not hard to call her the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. It won't be hard to repeat the words either. But Jessica, in that window, watering and humming softly to herself, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. Jessica in that small moment, this moment, becomes something that Taeyeon desperately wants to have.

This isn't a love story. Not yet.

**Author's Note:**

> \- i needed to write something happy. er, well happy-ish.
> 
> \- i have a thing for plants. and horror novels.
> 
> \- this seems like the best of both worlds?
> 
> \- the nightmare before christmas is quoted here. my sister makes me watch with her at _least_ once every month, lmao. so this seemed like the perfect thing to do too.
> 
> \- more cohesive, coherent notes at the end-end, of course. but this should be three, maybe four parts. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
